


Cheering for the Losing Team isn't Always a Bad Thing

by Nikolaus_Chaser



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sex, Competition, Destiel NSFW, Football, M/M, destiel smut, handjob, superbowl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:11:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5294210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikolaus_Chaser/pseuds/Nikolaus_Chaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wants to spend time with Dean, but all that Dean wants to do is watch football.  So, reluctantly, Castiel starts watching too.  Little does he know, Dean's obsession with football and the Jayhawks will wind up working delightfully in his favor.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="www.smack-that-assbutt.tumblr.com>Follow%20My%20Blog!</a>"></a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheering for the Losing Team isn't Always a Bad Thing

The Eagles were playing the Patriots and for the first time in several long weeks, Sam, Dean and Castiel had some free time on their hands.  The cases had seemed to cool down for now, and there had been no sign of Amara since she had escaped from Sam and Dean in Crowley’s lair.  They had nothing to do; nowhere to go, for the first time in what felt like ages.  And ever since he had been recovering from Rowena’s spell, Castiel had found himself hanging out with Dean more often.  They were best friends, after all, and it was nice to finally have some down time together.

Which is what brought him to the couch one rainy Sunday, watching the football game with Dean.  He didn’t even understand why Dean liked watching those games anyway.  All that football was was just a bunch of sweaty men ramming into each other and fighting over a ball.  He really couldn’t see the appeal to it at all.  After a few minutes of watching the screen he let out a loud sigh, looking away and tapping his fingers against his leg, bored.  Dean reached out, patting him on the knee.

“You okay, buddy? You look like you’re head’s about to pop off.  You want a beer?”  

Castiel grunted in response and shook his head.  “I’m fine, Dean.  I just don’t see the appeal of watching this game.  Isn’t there something else we can do?” He asked.  Dean frowned.

“Maybe later.  I’m sorry Cas, it’s just that the Eagles are my  _favorite_  team, and they’re kicking New England’s asses right now,” Dean said, biting his lips.  Castiel nodded, letting out a tired little puff of air from his mouth and turning his attention back to the screen.  He would suffer through the sports program, if only for the sake of keeping Dean’s company.

* * *

After a few weeks into football season, Castiel decided that the sport couldn’t be that bad.  After all, watching the ‘Eagles’, as Dean called them, face off against other teams seemed to make Dean extremely happy.  And Castiel liked it when Dean was happy.  Still, Castiel had no particular interest in watching the sport himself, and would often head to the library on Sunday evenings to do research with Sam or catch up on his reading.  He would hang out with Dean in some other way- reading was much more preferable to sitting in front of the television and watching unnecessarily violent men tackle one another.

But Sam wasn’t at home today; he had gone out to take care of a case with a fellow hunter and had left Dean and Castiel to man the phones at the bunker.  So far they hadn’t needed to call in any cover stories, though, so it was safe for Cas to assume that the hunt was going well.  However, that didn’t keep him from feeling lonely when he walked into the library on Sunday and was greeted by absolute silence.

That’s what brought Castiel to the couch, sitting down just as Dean settled in to watch the game.  He wanted to spend time with Dean, and if this was the only way to do it, then he would suffer through watching football to do so.  

Castiel smiled at Dean as he sat down, and the hunter raised an eyebrow at him.  Cas?” He asked.  Castiel hummed nonchalantly and glanced over at Dean.

“Yes?”

“You watching the game?” He asked, sounding suspicious and looking at Cas in disbelief as he nodded. After a few minutes he shrugged though, smiling and picking up a beer to hand to Cas.  The angel took it, placing the bottle between his legs and offering his friend a small smile.

“Popcorn?” He offered. Castiel nodded and reached forward, taking a large handful and popping it into his mouth.  Dean did the same, and the two sat on the couch shoulder to shoulder as the game began.

Castiel tried to follow along- honestly, he did.  He understood the concept of the game somewhat, from what Dean had told him and what he had observed, but some things were still a bit confusing to him.  And the coloring of the uniforms didn’t help either- they were all the same!  So when the Seattle Seahawks scored a touchdown against the Eagles, it was only Castiel’s first inclination to cheer loudly.

“Cas!” Dean yelled, exasperated.  Castiel frowned and looked back at him, lowering his arms from the fist pumping he had been doing.

“Yes, Dean?” He asked.

“What are you doing?” Dean scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “We don’t cheer for the Seahawks. We want them to  _lose_ ,” Dean said, looking utterly pissed off. Castiel’s lips pressed together as suddenly an idea struck his mind, and he smirked a bit as he spoke.

“Yes, well, I  _do_ root for the Seahawks,” he said.  Dean laughed.

“What?  Since when?” He spat out.  Castiel shrugged.

“Since I started watching football,” he retorted.  If Dean could obsess over and root for the Eagles, then Castiel had the right to root for whatever team he wanted as well.  And anyway, the fact that Cas was claiming to be a Seahawks fan seemed to really piss Dean off, which was surprisingly pleasing to Castiel.  He loved seeing Dean when he was happy, but seeing him in a tizzy also seemed to be somehow exhilarating.

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes.  “That’s  _real_  rich, Cas.  You don’t even watch football.  You’re just rooting for the Seahawks to fuck with me!”

“Oh, really?” Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow.  Even though it was true, Castiel found that he was immensely enjoying toying with Dean.  “I think that it’s rather egotistical of you to make that assumption.”

“Yeah, well I bet it’s true,” Dean huffed, seemingly very worked up over the fact that Cas was rooting for the Seahawks.  So worked up, in fact, that he was missing the game to yell at his angel friend.  “And anyway, you’re rooting for a suck ass team.  The Eagles could destroy the Seahawks with one hand tied behind their backs.”

“You want to bet on that?” Castiel asked, squinting at Dean and tilting his head to the side.  Dean snorted and dug into his pocket, producing his wallet.

“Hell yeah.  How much?”

“I don’t know… fifty bucks?” Castiel said.  Dean reached into his wallet, producing a one hundred dollar bill.

“Let’s make that a hundred, even.”

Castiel nodded, digging into his own pocket and then slapping the money into Dean’s hand.  He grinned. “It’s a deal.”

* * *

Dean wound up driving Cas to the gardening center at the local mall, grumbling about ‘damn cheating angels’ the whole way there.  Still, he didn’t seem to mind helping Castiel set up his bee garden on the roof of the bunker, and Sam will swear he even saw Dean smiling as Castiel worked with his little spade planting bee-friendly flowers in the dirt.

* * *

Watching football with Dean quickly turned from one of Castiel’s least favorite hobbies to one of his favorite pass times.  They’d make bets with each other frequently over who was going to win or lose, though none of the bets seemed to incite as much rage as that first one had.  It was a little game that the two of them were playing, and they were both having a lot of fun with it.

That is, until the Super Bowl came along.

The Eagles had made it for the first time in years, and they were facing off against the Vikings- one of Dean’s least favorite teams to begin with. Castiel didn’t like them either (he said that their uniforms were too tight and they all looked like yellow blobs on the field.  Dean couldn’t argue with that.)  Dean had worked all day preparing for the event, cooking appetizers for himself, Sam and Castiel. There was a huge amount of fried food; hot wings, chili cheese fries, potato boats, nachos, jalapeño poppers- basically any unhealthy food you could imagine and Dean had cooked it.  They’d also ordered two pizzas, and Sam and Dean were just serving the slices onto plates when Castiel walked into the room,  _wearing a Vikings jersey_

Both Sam and Dean’s mouths dropped open as they watched Cas take a seat on the couch opposite them, smiling and reaching for a nacho and dipping it into some Salsa.  He looked up at Sam and Dean when they continued to stare at him, frowning slightly.

“Is something wrong?”

“What the  _fuck_ are you wearing?” It came out of Dean’s mouth rather harshly as he stood up, crossing his arms over his chest.  Castiel put his nacho down and stood up as well, putting his hands on his hips.

“It’s my jersey, for the game. I’m rooting for the Vikings, since it’s obvious that they’re going to win,” he said confidently.  Dean looked like he was literally about to explode, and Sam quickly stood up, clearing his throat.

“I’m gonna go… Heat up my pizza.  Be right back,” he said, quickly dashing from the room.  Castiel watched him go, then turned his attention back to Dean. He frowned.

“Are you alright?  You look like-”

“Am I  _alright_?!” Dean screamed. “My best friend is wearing a fucking  _Vikings_  jersey and wants to know if I’m alright? What the fuck is wrong with you, Cas?! Do you like pushing my buttons?!”

At this point Castiel was fighting back the urge to laugh at loud, but he managed to maintain his cool.  “Dean, I really think that you’re overreacting.  It’s just a-”

“ _Overreacting?!_  You’re doing this just to fuck with me, Cas!  You hate the Vikings!  I hate the Vikings too, and you know that!  You’re just being an asshole.”

“Now I never said that I  _hated_ the Vikings, I simply said-”

“Shut up and just go change the damn shirt, Castiel!”

“I’m not going to change my shirt, Dean,” Castiel growled out, crossing his arms over his chest.  Dean clenched his fists.

“Yes you are.  Take it off, Cas, or you can’t watch the game with us.”

“No way!  I can wear whatever I- Dean, what are you doing? -  _AHH!_ ” Castiel screamed as Dean tackled him, just like the football players on the screen always would, grabbing at his arms and pulling them away from his chest.  Castiel flailed, caught off guard as he began to pound at Dean’s arms and back.

“Get off of me!  Dean!” He screamed as Dean grabbed onto the shirt, tugging it over his head.  The neck got stuck as he tried to pull it off of Cas’s arms and, now blinded by the fabric, Castiel flailed violently against Dean. The two of them toppled over, knocking over a lamp and landing on the couch together, bodies pressed against one another.  The shirt ripped in two and Dean threw it to the ground triumphantly, glaring at it as his chest heaved.

“There,” he growled out, turning to face Castiel and for the first time noticing how damn close the two of them were, and what an awkward position they were in.  Castiel’s breath hitched as blue eyes met green ones, Cas’s bare chest rising and falling rapidly as Dean stared down at him.

Cas wasn’t sure who made the first move- he thought it was Dean who leaned in first, but he definitely could have been mistaken- but it didn’t matter because then they were kissing, they were  _finally kissing_ , wet lips colliding.  Dean’s tongue was hot and insistent against Cas’s lips, pushing into his mouth and claiming it as his, claiming  _Cas_ as his, tangling his fingers into the angel’s hair and tugging on it roughly.  Castiel moaned and arched his body, grabbing at Dean’s shoulders and scratching him through his shirt, an aggravated groan leaving his lips as the kiss finally broke.

“Too many clothes,” he growled.  Dean nodded in agreement, gasping for breath before he surged in once again and kissed Cas’s lips.  They sat up together, groping each other’s bodies as they followed one another towards Dean’s bedroom.  By the time they got there Dean’s shirt was half off his body, his arms stuck in the sleeves, and his pants were already unbuckled.  He was just about to finish undressing himself when Castiel pushed him up against the door, kissing him roughly and grinding against his leg.

“Hurry up and get naked already,” he growled, unbuttoning his own jeans and letting them fall to the floor.  He stepped out of them and kicked them to the side, his bleached white boxer briefs dropping easily to the floor.  And then he was naked in front of Dean, a glorious sight for the hunter to behold, all 160 pounds of pure lean muscle and delicious curves.  Dean felt his mouth water as his eyes raked up and down Cas’s body, his eyes widening at the sight of his cock, eight inches long and flushed at the tip, already leaking precum.

He scrambled to finish undressing, his shirt and pants falling to the floor in record time.  Once he was naked Castiel growled, pressing him up against the door again and kissing him, hard.

“About time,” he rumbled, grabbing the hunter by the hips and spinning them around.  He walked backwards while kissing Dean, pushing him back onto the bed.  Dean bounced on the memory foam mattress, his breath hitching as he watched in awe as Cas climbed on top of him.

“I wasn’t expecting to have sex today.  I’m not… prepped… down there,” Dean admitted with a blush.  Castiel shrugged, leaning down to kiss him as he draped his own body over Dean’s.

“No matter.  I wasn’t planning on having penetrative sex today either,” he said.  Dean let out a sigh of what seemed to be relief, and Castiel smiled, kissing him again as he wrapped his fist around both of their cocks. Dean moaned into his mouth, biting down gently on Cas’s tongue and reaching around to dig his nails into his back.

Slowly Castiel began to rock his hips against Dean’s, his cock sliding up against the hunters as he squeezed both of them in his hand.  Dean moaned and did the same, thrusting up into Cas’s fist and squeezing his eyes shut.  Cas’s moans filled his ears and he gasped, pushing his cock up faster, relishing in the slick slide of his length against the angel’s.

He opened his eyes to find that Castiel was watching him, blue eyes wide with lust and pupils dilated beyond what Dean would consider a natural size. His breath hitched and he reached up, cupping Cas’s cheek and dragging his thumb over the stubble there.

“Cas,” Dean choked out on a moan, tilting his head back as his hips stuttered. Castiel squeezed his hand around their cock and swiped a finger over the head of Dean’s member.  The hunter gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, white light flashing behind his eyes as he came with a cry all over Cas’s hand.  Castiel groaned at the feeling of Dean pulsing against him, the hunter’s cum slicking the way for his hand to move faster, bringing him closer and closer to orgasm.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean gasped in his ear, wrapping his arms around him again and raking his nails down his back.  Castiel moaned and squeezed his eyes shut, hips stuttering slightly.  “Come on, angel,” Dean repeated.  “Cum for me.  Cover me with your cum, baby.  I want to see you  _scream_.”

“Dean!” Castiel gasped, hips stilling and eyes going wide as he came, thick ropes of cum shooting out from his dick and covering Dean’s belly.  The lights in the room flickered once before the bulbs simply burst, Dean’s lamp shattering as well as the ceiling light. Castiel didn’t seem to notice, however, too lost in the aftershocks of his orgasm.  His entire body seemed to tremble as his cock twitched for the final time, little dribbles of cum oozing out as he went limp on top of Dean.

The hunter couldn’t help but laugh, wrapping his arms around Castiel and kissing his shoulder blade.

“Exhausting, isn’t it?”

Castiel groaned in response and Dean laughed again, smiling against his skin. Finally Castiel looked up, his hair sticking up in every direction.  He slid off of Dean, rolling over and reaching out to cup the hunter’s face. Dean smiled, grateful that the lights were busted and Castiel couldn’t see how he was blushing at the intimate contact.

“That was amazing, Dean,” he paused before adding, rather contemplatively, “And I’d very much like to do it again.”

Dean laughed loudly, grinning and kissing the palm of Cas’s hand.  “Sure thing, baby.  Right after we invest in some new lightbulbs,” he said, glancing over at his shattered lamp.  Castiel smiled sheepishly.

“Yeah… Sorry about that.”

Dean snorted, still smiling.  “Yeah, well, I’m not.”

Just then there was a pounding at the door, and Dean and Cas both looked up in time to hear Sam shouting through the door.  “Are you guys done in there already?!  The fucking Vikings just scored the winning touchdown!” He shouted. Castiel and Dean turned to look back at each other, both with raised eyebrows.  Dean was the first to speak.

“Can’t say I really care so much.”

Castiel grinned, leaning in to press his lips against Dean’s.  “Me either.”


End file.
